Secrets Unbound
by Amarissa
Summary: The Clave and Inquisitor Herondale made more than one mistake and it cost lives. Set in an AU of The Mortal Instruments, with personal touches and some new characters. Watch as an old mistake is brought to light and old wrongs are partially fixed. Because nothing can fix the death of innocents. Not a Jace/Clary romance, might be Jace/OOC later. Set 10 years into the future.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments universe or any other elements that could be recognized from the books. That right lies solely to the original author of the series, Cassandra Clare. I do own any OOCs that will make an appearance and all the original elements. Now that I've stated that, enjoy your reading.

Prologue

She stood in the cemetery unmoving…she was alone. Completely alone now. It only took a moment's notice and the inattentiveness of a driver and everything was taken from her. Everything she had lived for. Her family…even her dog. They were all gone. Buried six feet under now.

She felt cold, even if it was the middle of summer. She was shivering. The other friends had already left the cemetery, only she had remained. Unable to take her eyes off the square of land that now housed everything her life had stood for. She couldn't cry…her eyes were painfully dry. And oh, how she wished she could have cried.

A shiver made its way through her body, but she paid it no mind. It didn't matter now…nothing mattered anymore. She had given everything up for her family – her future, her chance of building a family of her own. She had invested everything. And now she lost everything.

Of course, she had lost some things before that. Hearing that she could never have children of her own, being torn apart inside by the man that she once loved with everything she had.

She smiled realizing that it had all been a gradual process…first the love of her life turned sour, that her father had died, finding out that she could never have children of her own and now this. She had nothing left and a bitter smile worked its way up to her face. It was over…her life was over. She was dead…she just wasn't in the ground yet. She would be…there was no doubt.

She briefly toyed with the idea of slitting her wrists right then and there with the scalpel she always wore in her bag. A remnant of past habits and her job. Just like all the scars her body wore beneath the clothes. But the idea was squashed ruthlessly. She didn't deserve the peace, the silence her soul cried out for. Everything she touched, she sundered. She would take her place in the ground…once God granted her wish. Once she deserved the oblivion. Not a moment sooner.

Drawing a shivering breath she opened her eyes, taking in the freshly turned earth on the two graves.

"I have to pay for being what I am." The whisper was low, almost a whisper, but the wind stole her words and carried them away. The cemetery was always windy. It felt fitting, almost as if the dead were walking among the graves and their insubstantial forms were contained in the air.

A thunder rolled in the distance bringing her somewhat closer to reality. It was a bright morning when the funerals had taken place, now, in the low light, it seemed like hours had sped by, like it was late in the evening. Throwing a look at her wristwatch, she realized it was already 9 pm.

"I should be going home…" she whispered, but made no move as to turn and go for the car parked close by. Where was home? Every being she had ever cared for was here…in the ground. This was home now. But she knew she could not stay, no matter how much she wanted. Already, the cemetery guards were coming towards her with flashlights in their hands, no doubt to send her on her way before the cemetery gates were closed for the night.

For a moment, she entertained the idea of running for the woods – it wasn't a long distance, hide there and spend her night on the fresh graves, but her body was screaming with exhaustion. She couldn't move even if she wanted. She felt hands touching her shoulders and she shied back. She was tainted. Everything she touched, everything that touched her, fell apart.

"Ma'am, it's time for you to go. I'm sorry for your loss, but the cemetery gates will be closing in 5 minutes. You can't stay here." The guard's voice was low and she drew a shivering breath.

"Of course, thank you. I'm sorry for staying so late." Her voice was hoarse, almost as if she had screamed too much. "I'll be on my way now. Good night, sir."

Her hands felt numb as she pushed the car keys into ignition…she felt numb all over, even as her soul was screaming. It was screaming so loud that she was partly surprised that the man had not heard it. But it was ok, she was used to not being heard. She was alone. Just as she sould.


	2. Chapter I - To Forget

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments universe or any other elements that could be recognized from the books. That right lies solely to the original author of the series, Cassandra Clare. I do own any OOCs that will make an appearance and all the original elements. Now that I've stated that, enjoy your reading.

Chapter I

The house was dark and cold, the air humid and suffocating. It felt like she was inside a cave, not the apartment that had been her home for over 26 years. She didn't bother to turn on the lights. There was no point. The darkness had something of a comforting feel and she couldn't bear seeing herself in the mirrors that littered the house.

Taking her clothes off, she went to the bedroom, lying on the bed, but sleep would not come. The screaming inside almost made its way to her lips, but she bit down on them deeply so that none could escape. The silence was deafening and only made the sounds inside stronger. Her eyes burned, but still, no tears came.

She spent the night in a semi-comatose state…the sleep didn't come, but she couldn't move. But the mind kept working, reliving over and over the car accident. The heart-stopping horror when she realized that she was the only one left. That the car was totally crashed and the mind-wrenching sensation of wanting to die, so strongly that her heart had stopped for a few seconds. She had escaped with just a few bruises and scrapes. She remembered the force of the impact and the way the car rolled and rolled until it came to a stop against a tree. She remembered the choked sounds that seemed to flood her brain before she realized that they were coming from her and that around her the silence was deafening. All she could hear was her own breathing, hyperventilating, choking, and the screech of twisting metal. Her mother and sister were silent, so silent it terrified her, their bodies twisted at unnatural angles, despite the seatbelts. Looking around, she could see the body of her dog lying deathly still and realization flooded her brain with cruel certainty. She was alone.

Raising a trembling hand she tried to reach her family, tried to see, to feel, hoping that her eyes were cheating her and that they were just unconscious. But then hands reached for her, pulling her from the wreckage and she fought, clawing and biting, wanting to stay and see if her family was alright. But then her aching body betrayed her and all the fight went out of her when her mind registered the voices, their words throwing shock over her like a blanket. The words were implacable, burned strongly on her mind "The others are dead, call an ambulance for the one that's still alive."

She screamed…she screamed so loud that the hands let go of her and she crashed to the ground, legs unwilling to support her anymore. She tried to drag herself back to the twisted metal that was left of the car, to the broken bodies of her family, but the hands came back, unforgiving in their strength, keeping her down, unable to go back. She screamed until the ambulance came, she fought against the hands even after the doctor had given her a shot in the arm with something.

And suddenly, it stopped. The part of her mind that was still conscious, logical, realized that the doctor had given her a tranquilizer, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It was over. Everything was over. She was God knows where, among strangers and she was all alone.

The light of dawn came, unforgiving, making the apartment seem all the more deserted and she rose mechanically. The clock on her phone read 5:25 am and she dragged herself towards the kitchen. She needed coffee. She needed anything that could help her get past the coming day. And the next, and the next after that.

She dressed only half conscious of what she was doing, getting ready for work in a series of motions that were almost automatic.

She registered with only half of mind the surprised faces of her co-workers when she arrived and ignored their advice. Why should she go home? What for? It was empty, just like she felt. She needed to work. She needed something to focus on. And with that, she went towards the waiting room of the clinic, looking for the first patient of the day, looking for anything that could erase the images of torn metal and twisted bodies that kept rolling and rolling behind her eyelids every time she blinked.


	3. Chapter II - Just Another Day of Work

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments universe or any other elements that could be recognized from the books. That right lies solely to the original author of the series, Cassandra Clare. I do own any OOCs that will make an appearance and all the original elements. Now that I've stated that, enjoy your reading.

Chapter II – Just Another Day of Work

This was supposed to be another day of work, as normal as it could be when work meant killing demons and other Law-breaking Downworlders, but things had turned sour a while ago. He had been dispatched to the foreign Institute to help clearing a Ravener nest, thanks to his linguistic abilities that had been drilled in his head ever since he was a kid. And, of course, for his extraordinary fighting skills.

But things didn't go as planned. They almost never did. He and his parabatai had been separated from the beginning from the rest of the Shadowhunter team they had gone with. And, after that, he lost Alec too.

"By the Angel, that's what lack of information and weak leaders bring." He swore under his breath, keeping a witchlight close to his face, eyes roaming the darkness around him, looking for the demon that had retreated a while ago. He didn't waste time looking for Alec or the others…he knew that at least his parabatai and his sister could take care of themselves. As for the others, it was on their heads…they should have investigated closer the nest they were supposed to attack. They should have known that a nest of Raveners was never a good thing, especially with no leader in sight. Raveners were supposed to be stupid, servants of a Greater Demon, but none of the intel gathered by the local Institute showed the presence of any leader. They assumed that the nest was easy prey, that the lack of a leader was a good sign and they only called for help because of the large number of demons. They never suspected that the Raveners could be changed, could be a different branch, stronger and smarter than the regular pests. And the Shadowhunters got surprised.

After the initial attack, the demons dispersed, hiding in the darkness and picking the fighters around him one by one. Upon locating one Ravener that seemed to direct the others, bigger and uglier than the others, he had given chase, but the beast turned and fled. He could hear Alec calling his name, but he couldn't stop, nothing could come between him and his prey. A feral grin made way on his face as he saw the demon ducking in a building nearby and he put on a burst of speed, willing himself to catch up to it.

The building was dark, with faded splotches of light here and there, where weak light bulbs tried unsuccessfully to disperse the darkness. There were concrete stairs going up and a metal elevator that seemed unused at the moment. Ascending the flight of stairs, he could hear claws clicking on the pavement somewhere above him and he slinked near the wall, trying to discern any movement that could give away the Raveners position. The building housed a number of apartments and he thanked the Angels for the Secrecy Rune that allowed him to go unnoticed among the mundanes. He only hoped that the noise would not attract any unwanted attention.

He worked his way up over 7 floors and neared the 8th and, it seemed, the final floor. The thing should have been around here somewhere. He spied movement from the corner of his eye before something heavy slammed sideways into him, sending him sprawling on the cold concrete. For a moment, white splotches covered his vision, but he shook his head, willing them to go away. The witchlight had been knocked out of his hand and the only light he had was the one his Seraph blade, Cassiel, gave off. He could see faint movement in the darkness and braced himself before the darkness exploded towards him, bringing his blade forward and raking a bloody line down a slimy body. With an inhuman screech, the demon turned, attacking with long claws and fangs bared. The pain of its fangs raking down his left arm made him grind his teeth and he jumped backwards only to come short, feeling the hard concrete wall at his back.

The Ravener followed his movement, tearing savagely at his vest, bringing forth a spray of fine blood drops. He brought his blade on it hard, willing it to cut through it but, with a ripping sound, the thing sprang back, hiding in the shadows again. He could hear its harsh breathing and smell the rancid smell it gave off. Reaching for his stele, he moved it towards his left arm to finish the contour of an iratze, swearing under his breath. He never had good coordination with his right and he hated drawing runes with it. As if attracted by the crystal's light, the demon chose that moment to descend unto him again and he could feel the fangs sinking deep in his arm. With a grunt, he pushed it far enough to bring the Seraph blade forth again, drawing another bloody line down the long body, but this time, the Ravener didn't back down. One of its clawed appendices found an opening and sunk deep into his side, drawing forth a grunt of pain.

He could feel himself slipping along the wall and a bitter smile stretched his lips, wondering whether this was the way for him to go. He could see the Ravener's head drawing back, getting ready to strike at him and he took the opening to try to stab it with his blade, but one of its appendices hit his already mangled arm hard, and he felt the sword being knocked away from his hand. He pushed forth his stele, stabbing the rotting flesh of the demon, but the thing kept moving, trying to tear at him with fangs and claws and new bloody gashes littered his body now.

Darkness was threatening to swallow him whole, and some detached part of his mind observed, amused, that his body kept fighting even after the beast sunk its fangs in him repeatedly.

Out of nowhere, a big shadow jumped from the darkness and hit the Ravener in its side, tumbling away with it in a cacophony of snarls and growls. For a moment, the Shadowhunter thought that a werewolf had come to his aid, but then, his attention was distracted by another shadow, this one undoubtedly human, picking up his sword and driving it home between the demon's eyes, taking advantage of the creature's inattentiveness while fighting the wolf. Or was it a wolf, he wondered. The demon let out a final screech before folding in on itself.

The human shadow let out a low whistle, capturing the canine's attention.

"Rolf, get home". The voice seemed decidedly feminine, with a steely undercurrent. The canine, Rolf, his mind supplied, let out a low growl and limped back on the stairs, several bloody gashes dripping dark blood in its wake.

The female picked up his witchlight and brought it closer to him, bathing his face with the white light. Cold fingers touched his neck and he strained trying to see the face of the person crouching over him.

"Hush, it's over." She whispered. "Can you walk?"

The question seemed simple enough, but answering it was a different thing. He shrugged, letting out another grunt as the movement jostled his wounds. "I can try." He answered through clenched teeth.

"Come on." Her hands, cold but steady, dragged him to his feet. A wave of dizziness threatened to send him tumbling back down, but she held him steady. She pulled him away from the stairs, towards the elevator "You can lean on me, don't worry."

Slowly, they waited for the elevator to come and then stepped inside. His vision swam as she let him go to close the doors. He couldn't see the button she pushed and rested his head against the wall when the whole cabin jostled with the movement of descending. He couldn't tell if it was minutes or seconds until he could feel the hands again, supporting and taking him across the threshold of an apartment.

"Come on, it's just a little further." She said dragging him along.

In the moment after he felt himself falling on something soft, light inundated his vision, searing his eyes. He squinted and discerned black hair and a white face, before his eyes closed as of their own accord. He fought it, trying to stay awake, but the soothing coolness of her hands was back on his brow and a whisper made its way to his ears "Stay still, you're safe now." before he felt himself engulfed in the oblivion his tired body seemed to need.


	4. Chapter III - Surprises in the Dark

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments universe or any other elements that could be recognized from the books. That right lies solely to the original author of the series, Cassandra Clare. I do own any OOCs that will make an appearance and all the original elements. Now that I've stated that, enjoy your reading.

Chapter III – Surprises in the Dark

She was back in the apartment…all alone, but for the Raven Shepherd she had taken home when abandoned by previous owners. They were both loners…the dog didn't cry when he was left behind. Just stood on its haunches and watched his previous masters' backs as they left. And then he turned to look at her and, in that moment, she knew she wouldn't put him to sleep. She couldn't bring herself to euthanize the dog just because the previous owners were disappointed when he grew larger than they thought he would be. Not all dogs stayed small and fluffy. Especially not Shepherd dogs.

The lights were off, as always, and she lit a cigarette gazing out on the window. It didn't matter it was 2 am…sleep never came unless she was exhausted. And even then, her sleep was riddled with nightmares of torn metal and flesh. So she spent most of her nights gazing unseeing out the windows and smoking. The silence felt good, all-encompassing as if in contrast to what she usually felt.

However, this night seemed more interesting than the others…probably due to the large group of black-dressed people that got out of several cars underneath her window. She followed their progress towards the old building that used to house college students up until a few months back. Now, it was just empty, with no buyers on the horizon. A humorless smile graced her lips thinking that the building, that looked more like a huge garage, rather than an apartment building, could have been bought by these people "What can I say?" she whispered to herself "Cool renovation crew."

Her eyes followed the people making their way in the building and noted their strangely organized way of moving, as if slinking along the walls. She turned, not really caring…they weren't the first strange group to find their way in that neighborhood and it really didn't concern her. But soon, the night's silence was broken by screams and snarls, all mixed up as if in a strange symphony. That piqued her interest and she stayed by the window, waiting to see who would come out of the building alive.

A few minutes later, a solid mass of shadow seemed to burst through one of the doors and crashed through the doors of the apartment building she lived in, soon to be followed by a human shadow that seemed to chase it.

"Well, this is unexpected…" she whispered. "Wouldn't you say, Rolf?"

The dog sat on its haunches, watching her as he always did when she was home. A low growl was all the response she got and it made her smile. Rolf could be very talkative, always answering to her words with growls or other sounds…it was amusing, especially since that fact made most people think he was an aggressive specimen. But she knew better…and he was great company.

He rose and went to the front door, sniffing it and lightly scratching the metal, looking expectantly at her. With a sigh, she rose and lightly admonished "Don't scratch the door, Rolf, you know it's annoying." A low growl was her only response and she pressed her ear to the cold metal door. A soft clicking on the concrete stairs could be heard, followed by slow light steps. Looking through the peephole, she discerned the shadow of a man climbing up the stairs and turning for the next flight, going up. She stood by the door for the next minutes, waiting for any other sounds that could tell her what was happening, but the silence seemed to have descended upon the building again, only to be shattered in the next seconds by a loud snarl and several thumps.

Rolf's hackles seemed to rise on their own accord and he let loose a low growl watching the door. Turning his large head towards her, he whined slowly, as if begging to be let out.

"Really, Rolf…" she whispered, "that's how the characters die in those stupid horror movies", but, at the same time, she grabbed one of the knives in the kitchen and slowly opened the front door. She passed her hand around Rolf's collar, willing him to stay close. A soft grunt coming from above could be heard and a loud screech broke the silence once again. This time, she let the dog loose and bounded the stairs after him. All the noise seemed to come from the 8th floor, only two floors above and she sped up hoping that everything was only a party gone wrong, but at the same time, she was aware that it wasn't the case here.

Coming up the last few steps, she could see Rolf rolling on the ground, fighting something – a shapeless animal that she couldn't name. Grinding her teeth hearing a whine of pain coming from him, she marched ahead, spotting a glowing blade lying forgotten on the floor. She took that in her hand, feeling the smooth cold texture and discarding the kitchen knife and dove towards the thing, aiming for the appendix that was supposed to be the head, if she was to judge it by the glowing red multiple eyes and the fanged opening that was supposed to be a mouth. Against all hopes, the blade went clean through it and it slouched forward before starting to fold into itself until it was gone. Letting out a relieved sigh, she risked a look around, making sure that Rolf was still alive and let loose a low whistle. His huge head rose and with a tender smile she sent him back to the apartment "Rolf, get home."

She looked at him, evaluating his condition and resolved to check up on him as soon as she managed to get back home as well. Leaning on a wall, half lying down, she found the human shadow that she had seen giving chase to the thing. Swearing lowly under her breath she tried to survey the damage, but the hall was dark and he, definitely a he, seemed unmoving. Spying a dim light a few feet away from her, she grabbed it only to be shocked when its light seemed to intensify once in contact with her skin. She swallowed her nerves and went to check on the man, taking in his battered form and the pool of blood that seemed to expand away from him.

Things looked bad and judging by his pallor, it was going to turn worse if she left him there any longer. Placing two fingers on his neck, she found his pulse, a fast superficial flutter, and he moved as if startled.

"Hush" she whispered, not sure he could even register her words. "It's over. Can you walk?"

Her indication that he had heard her was a half shrug that brought forth a grunt from his pale lips, followed by a short response through clenched teeth "I can try."

This was a good sign…he was conscious, even if barely and so she started helping him rise, half dragging, half supporting his frame until he was finally up. Once up, she had to steady him from falling back on his face and then slowly took him towards the elevator, thanking whatever deity could hear her for the long hours in the clinic dealing with aggressive dogs that had to be held down for treatment giving her the strength to carry the man. He seemed of a slender build, but he was tall and he weighed more than she did. Sensing him trying to pull back, she whispered soothingly, as if to a scared animal "You can lean on me, don't worry".

Once the elevator arrived, she took him inside and cursed again the building manager that had yet to fix the damn doors that needed to be held closed for it to work. Letting him lean on the elevator wall, she closed the door and pushed the button for her floor, while watching his frame for any sign that could announce his crashing. She really didn't want to get stuck in the elevator, especially with some guy that was slowly bleeding to death next to her. Not a moment too soon, the elevator stopped and she went back to supporting him, trying to get the guy inside her apartment.

As soon as they passed the threshold and she pushed the door closed, she felt him stagger "Come on, it's just a little further". She almost dragged him those final steps until she reached one of the unused bedrooms and let him slip from her grasp on the bed.

Turning to open the lights, she saw him squinting at her, trying to rise, before falling backwards on the pillows. He was fighting to stay awake, she could tell and so she smoothed the crease on his brow and hushed him in a whisper "Stay still, you're safe now." She could tell the moment he fell unconscious by the way his whole body seemed to relax all at once.

For a second, his immobility made her think of the dead bodies she had seen, but she ruthlessly squashed the thought. This was not the moment for memories. Of any kind. She tried to control the tremors in her hand as she searched for a pulse and let loose a sigh upon finding it.

Moving as fast as if she was on duty at the clinic, she gathered the medical supplies that were in her treatment bag and some warm water to wash away the blood and grime and returned by the bedside. She could discern his shallow breathing but his pale color scared her the most, realizing that he had already lost too much blood. "I really hope this won't come back to bite me in the ass" she whispered, laying down the things she needed for an i.v. line. He stirred lightly as soon as the needle pierced his skin, but he gave no other signs of waking up and she managed to connect him to a saline bag. With that out of the way, she proceeded to tend to the still bleeding gashes that seemed to litter his whole body.

Getting him undressed seemed to be the next great challenge and she set to that with a pair of surgical gloves on her hands and a scissor by cutting away his vest and the long-sleeved t-shirt he wore underneath. After removing those, she stopped for a moment observing the damage. It was bad…really bad. Leaving the scissor to fall on the bed, she turned towards the phone laying next to her intent on calling an ambulance, however a strong hand closed around her arm, stopping her from reaching it.

"What are you doing?" he asked through clenched teeth. She could see his breathing going shallow with pain and she tried to push him back from his half risen position. "I'm calling an ambulance. You're hurt."

"No." his answered came abruptly, almost as if cutting the air between them. "No hospital".

The words rang with an air of finality and she could already see the wound in his side starting to bleed harder due to the strain. "Ok" she conceded, "no hospital. But you have to lie down. I won't call them, I promise."

He collapsed back on the pillow and she could see from the way his jaw muscles worked that he was grinding his teeth to keep from groaning in pain. "I see that you have already started working on me" he said, pointing at the i.v. that was still feeding him the saline. "I believe you know what you're doing…you must be a doctor. There's no need for another."

A humorless laugh escaped her as she responded "Are you sure? I am a doctor, but I'm a vet. I don't have that much experience with treating people."

His eyes were locked onto her face when he responded "Would you prefer that I barked? I trust that your skills will be of assistance nonetheless." She shook her head "You must be insane. Actually, no, you are insane. Only an insane man would have run after that thing alone." "You saw?" he asked.

"Of course." And that was it, for the next moment he was out like a light. Sighing, she pulled out all the drugs she had for stopping any bleeding and started injecting them directly in the i.v. line. After that, she went on to clean the blood, stopping short when, one by one, she uncovered black markings adorning his torso and his arms. "Must be some sort of gang, I guess." She murmured. "At least that explains why he'd rather be treated by me than go to the hospital."

The side wound seemed to be more on the ugly side than serious, the bleeding being caused by the torn muscle, but, as far as she could see, the internal organs didn't seem affected. Sending a short prayer to whatever deity would be listening, she hoped that there was no internal bleeding. Seeing him starting to shiver from the cold, she finished bandaging the wounds and placed a blanket over the unconscious man. Resting back on her knees, she finally took a good look at the one she had dragged into her apartment.

He seemed young, maybe in his middle twenties, but all over his skin there seemed to be fine white scars, some even going down the side of his face. His hair seemed to be light in color, but she actually could not say, not with all the blood and grime caked in it. And for the life of her, she could not remember the color of his eyes. Making sure his pulse and breathing were steady, she turned and went looking for Rolf, to check up on him.

She found the dog in his usual sleeping place but as he lay there, unmoving, she realized that, once again, she had lost the one being she cared for. His wounds oozed a black blood, so dark she could barely differentiate it from his fur. Taking a deep breath, she kneeled next to him and cradled his big head in her lap, stroking the matted fur and hoping, almost childishly that he would look again into her eyes and growl in response to whatever words came tumbling out of her mouth. She couldn't cry…there were no tears left. But the pain was there and it seared her so strongly that she almost chocked. She might have stood there minutes, maybe hours, but, when she heard a choking noise coming from the bedroom, she rose unsteadily and went there to see what was going on.

He was still unconscious but this time he seemed to have developed a fever. Sweat was dripping down his brow onto the pillow and his whole body seemed covered in a shiny layer of perspiration. She wasn't going to sleep, anyway…and the pain over Rolf was still fresh. But now she had a patient to look after and so she stood by him all night, cooling his body and hoping that the dawn would find him alive. Whatever had been in that creature had made short work of Rolf's body. She could only hope that the man was stronger than her beloved Raven Shepherd.


End file.
